


Gannicus the Celt

by Wadsworth



Category: Spartacus: Gods of the Arena
Genre: A few swearwords but nothing graphic, Character Study, Drabble, musings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 15:55:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26630248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wadsworth/pseuds/Wadsworth
Summary: What is left of the man when everything is stripped away to make him a great champion? Are the remains worth anything? What does a man do when he hurts those he loves most?
Comments: 3
Kudos: 6





	Gannicus the Celt

**Author's Note:**

> I'm in love with Gannicus, I admit it. I haven't written for years and suddenly this womanizing, home-wrecking Celt smiled and that was it, words happened again. 
> 
> ###
> 
> Of course I don't own any of these characters. Everything belongs to Starz and the creators of the Spartacus series. No copyright infringement is intended.
> 
> ###
> 
> As Gannicus himself was a real person, I hope he isn't spinning in his grave somewhere, swearing at me in his language. At least you died fighting to be free, Gannicus. Good on you.
> 
> ###
> 
> This is set during Gods of the Arena, in the midst of Gannicus' love affair with Melitta. I absolutely adore this couple, even though they obviously hurt Oenomaus very much. I'm a sucker for ill-fated Romeo and Juliet-style romances.

It is no easy thing to be a killer. Yet I find I am good at it. A god of the arena, no less.

Less and less do I remember the boy I was, the child who walked quaking into his first fight, praying to gods and ancestors to keep him from harm. Now, hands deal death blows before mind asks them to. Such is life, such is the game we play. Regret for lost innocence is useless, better to turn mind to task at hand. 

It is a monstrous thing to hunger for the joy that comes after a killer blow is struck. The release, the exhalation, the crushing realisation that death will not touch you that day. It becomes a need, a desire, a craving eclipsing all else from mind and heart. Only a gladiator can understand the hunger for it; only one who faces death and tells it to fuck off can truly appreciate the relief when it does.

Surviving a mortal bout is like to a wave that crashes upon you; drowning you, pushing you beneath surface and holding you there as blind, ecstatic joy threads its way through every fibre of your being. Only when deep in love, or at least in fucking, does similar emotion occur; of this I have knowledge.

A willingness to lose that which makes you whole, to sink into the boundless joy of survival and relinquish hold upon the man you thought you once were, that is no small thing to accomplish. Champions and dead men are divided by this line, by this willingness. Death comes for us all, but on bloody sand with blade deep in another man’s guts, death is held at bay and turns eager face from you once more. 

It is small wonder civilised Romans think of us as animals. Puppets, dolls to dance and fight and fuck and die for their amusement. We revel in life, in defying death, our games are bloody adventures and our relief at survival leads us to wildness. Every day may be our last, each moment may bring injury or ruin, so why should we not live as men condemned; seizing each moment and fucking it until it moans our names.

A god of the arena am I and slayer of death itself.

Life is for living and Gannicus the champion shall live it absent guilt or regret. 

Gannicus the man knows guilt; drowns in it, fears it and needs it in equal measure. Gannicus the man wounds those he loves yet stays his hand from soothing such wounds. Gannicus the man knows regret but understanding of how to ease it is beyond him.

A god of the arena am I; great Champion of Capua, Gannicus the Celt, lover of wine and women. May the gods forgive me for it and for all that I have done.

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a very long time since I posted anything. Please consider this to be a shameless plea for feedback. 
> 
> Thank you for taking the time to read this little drabble!


End file.
